Thanksgiving

Ah, Thanksgiving, a  lovely American tradition inspiring families to come together to celebrate love and good food.  It sounds great, but, sadly, not everyone has a family they love spending time with, so this holiday can be a major downer.

My ex, Mike, and I have always tried to put down our weapons and act like a functional family for the holidays.  Our kids, who are ages 19 and 20 now, appreciate not having to choose between Mom or Dad’s house, and somehow, we always seem to make it work.

This year I offered to make the Thanksgiving dinner, and picked up my “free” turkey from my favorite grocery store, Major Market.  It’s free because when you spend a certain dollar amount during a specified time period, you get a certificate for a turkey.  I grabbed the first one I saw, vaguely aware that it seemed a tad larger than I was used to.  When I got home, I discovered it was ginormous, weighing in at 26.7 pounds!  I congratulated myself on getting the most for my money.

I picked it up a week ahead of the big day and left it thawing in my fridge while my son and I made our traditional week-before-Thanksgiving trip to Big Bear. 

I heart Big Bear

 I bought all the ingredients we would need for a gourmet T-Day dinner before our trip so I wouldn’t have to battle hordes of frantic people shopping at the last minute, and congratulated myself on being so well prepared.  However, on Wednesday evening, I suddenly realized I didn’t have anything to cook the turkey in.  My roasting pan was pathetically inadequate for my giant bird and I raced to the store to buy disposable aluminum pans.  I drove in a panic, thinking they may have sold out since Thanksgiving was just a few hours away.  Luckily, they still had plenty and I calmed down. 

Anyone who has ever seen the movie Christmas Vacation knows the scene where Chevy Chase carves into the golden brown turkey and it disintegrates in a puff of smoke, while his wife’s cousin sobs, “I knew we put it in too early!”   

There's the heart!

This is every cook’s nightmare – a dry, inedible turkey, and this scene replays in my mind every year.  

"It's just a little dry..."

My turkey has always turned out just fine, but there always seems to be a moment of panic when I crank up the heat during the last hour or two because the thermometer is telling me, “NO WAY!  THIS TURKEY IS NOWHERE NEAR BEING DONE!  DINNER WON’T BE READY UNTIL MIDNIGHT, YOU IDIOT!!!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

So, because this turkey was in the extra large category and because I always stuff mine, I made sure it was in the oven early enough to allow for 8 hours cooking time.  I got up early, prepped the turkey , made the stuffing, and shoved Big Bird into the extra large aluminum pan.  It barely fit. 

My daughter had offered to come over and help, which was nice, and I stood in the kitchen most of the day preparing side dishes while she texted people on her cell phone.  While I was extremely grateful for her company, it was really up to me to put this whole shebang together.  To be fair, she did peel the potatoes for me and put napkins on the table.  In between food preparation, we played with our dogs, watched an SNL marathon and laughed a lot together.

Chester, Pepper, Chelsea waiting for crumbs

I put on the Thanksgiving episode of the Pioneer Woman’s cooking show because I LOVE her and thought it would be a good bonding opportunity for Krista and me.  

The Pioneer Woman

 The Pioneer Woman (Rhee Drumond) is this amazingly cheerful person who home schools her  4 perfect  children on their abundant Oklahoma ranch.  Their life seems ideal.  All the kids pitch in and help with cattle ranching and household chores with nary a complaint.  They all look lovingly and adoringly at their mom and dad, spend lots of time playing (and getting along with each other) in the yard, while Rhee is cooking scrumptious meals in her beautiful, spacious kitchen, with complete ease.  I want to be her.  I want my family to be like hers.  As I watched her prepare her turkey, I thought, uhoh, I didn’t do that, and dang!  Why didn’t I watch this show before Thanksgiving??  She had some great tips I’d never heard of. 

I love cooking too, but my mind is a chaotic, frantic mess, worrying about things turning out right and on time.  I blame Mom.  Whenever we had company for dinner, she was always in a frenzy, scowling, barking orders, swearing to herself, until the moment the doorbell rang.  Then she amazingly transformed herself into a calm, smiling, sane person who had seemingly put this feast together effortlessly.  While I strive to be more like Superwoman Rhee, it seems I’m doomed to turning into Mom, especially during the last few crucial minutes. 

It’s always been our tradition to make a Thanksgiving Gratitude Wreath every year to display on the table.  Each person has to write at least 5 things they are grateful for on strips of colored construction paper, then the kids weave them together in a wreath.  I love this tradition and the kids always seemed to view it as a fun craft project, especially when their cousins were with us.  This year it was just our little dysfunctional family and I was having a hard time getting them interested.  I got out pens, paper, scotch tape and scissors with an air of excitement, and made my part of the wreath.  I kept glancing over from the kitchen, noting that nothing was happening craft project-wise.  I changed strategies from happy lets-make-a-craft mode to gentle nagging mode.  After all, they are young adults now, and won’t respond any more to threats.  I tried not to think how this would never happen to Rhee.

OK! Not really my table! Or house! Sure is pretty, though, right?

Dinner was supposed to be at 6 and to my dismay, when I opened the oven door at 4 to check on the turkey, the thermometer was in the Nowhere Near, Are You Crazy? zone.  Now I was panicking.  I started cranking up the heat, first to 400, then to 450.  The oven started making weird noises and smoke was coming out the top of the door and filling the house with a lovely haze.  OK, now I was terrified.  Was it going to blow up?  The sane part of my brain was noting with amusement how my hands were shaking as I attempted to remove some of the juices from the overcrowded pan that were spilling onto the bottom of the oven.  Yup, I was definitely sceeaaared.  The thermometer still had not budged and that’s when I decided it was no longer working.  So I pulled Megabird out of the oven with trembling hands and prayed that it was done.  It was.  In fact, it was a tad overdone.  Not the Christmas Vacation version, but if I’d left it in any longer, I’m sure that’s what it would have looked like.  Yes, my laser sharp instinct had saved the day.  We opened all the doors to air out the house, I poured myself a giant glass of champagne and tried to look nonchalant. 

Our Gratitude Wreath was finally completed and displayed on the table shortly before our guests (my ex and his brother) arrived.   

Krista lit the candles on the table, and with a smile on my face and appearing ever so cool and calm, I served our dinner which everyone seemed to enjoy.  

OK, not really my turkey. Mine was much larger! (Internet photo)

 I started to relax a little.  During dessert, I suggested now would be a good time for everyone to read the Gratitude Wreath.  The kids said, Noooooo, so Mike picked it up, put on his reading glasses, leaned forward, and started to read, “I am thankful for...”

Suddenly, Krista yelled, “DAD!” and I watched in horror as flames shot up from the wreath which had been held too close to the candle flames.  I covered my eyes as Kyle blew out the flames.  For some reason, this incident caused me to break into hysterical laughter.  I laughed so hard I had to run from the table into the bathroom, where I continued to laugh until tears were pouring down my face, and I was still laughing when I returned to the dining room, trying in vain to compose myself. 

What is it about my family and fire?  What does this all mean?

Maybe it just means that Mike leaned too close to the candle on the table, that I almost blew up the turkey and have a dysfunctional family because I’m not Rhee Drummond and never will be.

But that’s OK.  We made the best out of our holiday in spite of the circumstances.  Our Gratitude Wreath was completed.  It now has a missing link, but is otherwise intact. 

The Missing Link

 I got to spend time with my son and daughter and put a nice dinner on the table in spite of the close call.

And my house didn’t burn down.